Chapter 8
Elizabeth
The morning air tastes of salt and feels full of possibility.
I waste no time. I’ve made a commitment to myself, and I’m going to stick to it.
I get dressed and head towards the front door with a sudden determination.
As I pass the coffee table where the newspaper is still laying, I can’t stop staring at it.
I debate opening it up and reading the article one more time.
Instead, I quickly pick it up and throw it in the recycling bin in an attempt to forget about it.
Forget about him.
Bear is ready and waiting, barking at me with anticipation, snapping me out of my trance.
I chuckle at him and head to the hook, grabbing his lead.
As I bend down to clip it on to him, a flash of black catches my peripheral vision.
My stomach drops. I stop, unable to move my feet.
There on the arm of the sofa lies Theo’s hoodie that he removed last night.
I gently pick it up from its place. I can’t resist the smell, lifting it closer to my face, breathing in his scent.
I instantly hate myself for it. This man makes me shamefully lose myself.
I close my eyes and take a moment, gathering my thoughts.
I place the hoodie back on the sofa and pull my phone out from my bag.
Elizabeth: You left your hoodie here last night. Feel free to drop by this evening to collect it if you need to.
I click send and then quickly change my mind about him coming, so I send another.
Elizabeth: Actually, I can leave it in a bag on the porch for your driver to pick up, so we don’t have to see one another.
It’s cold and to the point, but that’s how I need it to come across.
I cannot have him turning up at my house again.
I hope with every fibre in my bones, that he sends his driver.
I can’t see him so soon after last night.
I need to gain my strength first. I’m unsure whether my heart can take it.
Whether or not I am truly ready to turn him away if he does show up.
I place my phone back in my bag, grab Bear and head out, trying to forget about the hoodie. I lock the front door behind me and head towards the beach, my heart still somewhere inside the house.
****
Theo
When my phone buzzes, I’m surrounded by my PR team, so I ignore it at first. When the reminder buzz comes in a moment later, I quickly take a glance to check that it isn’t important, and heat traces up the back of my neck when I see Elizabeth’s name.
The room closes in on me, the sounds of everyone speaking muffling in my brain.
I open the message and begin to read her cold words.
My mind goes blank, and I need out of this room.
Without speaking, I swiftly stand from my chair and hear it clatter to the ground as I walk out.
I rest my hands on my head, slowly sliding them down the back of my neck. A bead of sweat rolls down my temple.
After pacing the hallway for five long minutes, I decide that this evening it will not be Nigel picking up that bag. I will go. Tell her how I really feel. I can’t lose her.
I need her.
I walk back into the room, aware that my sudden exit will have annoyed them all.
My PR team all turn to face me with questions filling their faces.
I’ve never walked out of a meeting before, but since meeting Elizabeth, I’ve become a different person.
I know I have. I feel it in every breath I take.
Every moment I’m thinking of her, and my closest staff have started to notice.
“We’re booking you and Olivia a holiday to Santorini,” my agent informs me. “We need to give the papers something to work with. Now that they have an image of you and this girl—”
“She’s not just some girl.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. The room goes silent, just the hum of the laptops filling the space. A moment passes, and my agent continues, his tone softer this time.
“We need to give them something in return so they don’t print these photos, Theo.” I rub my hands together beneath the desk in frustration. I know they’re right, but it kills me that, for us to make this go away, Elizabeth will be hurt in the process.
When I had woken to missed calls and messages from my team, I had a suspicion that perhaps my bravery with Elizabeth had now got me into trouble. The numerous coffee meets, the walk on the beach, going to her house. Someone was bound to have seen us.
I was right.
The papers have a picture of me and Elizabeth kissing inside her house.
When I saw the image, my heart dropped. I had been stupid and reckless, and the worst part of it…
I have put Elizabeth in danger. I don’t know how or where the tip off has come from, but the team are working on that at this very moment.
I make a vow not to tell Elizabeth about the picture.
The team will fix it, and she will never need to find out.
I’ll protect her fiercely. Keep her out of the spotlight. Keep her to myself.
****
Elizabeth
Bear leaves paw prints in the sand as we walk side by side.
My notebook clutched under my arm, ready to be opened and written in whenever inspiration decides to show its face again.
The sea is shimmering in the distance, the same calm hush that had once been my inspiration to write, now feeling like it is whispering an unfamiliar song.
My writer’s block is relentless. I haven’t written a single good line in months.
Not since Theo became more than a passing figure outside the window.
I need to forget him.
As hard as I am trying, I just can’t stop thinking about Theo kissing me last night.
I can still feel the press of his mouth on mine.
Then my next memory is one that I would rather forget.
I remember the moment I pulled away, and the look of guilt shadowing his face. I could see how much he wanted to say.
I’m trying not to let the thought harden my expression as I walk along the beach to my usual bench near the edge of the sand.
Bear curls up beside me, knowing this is the place where we can spend hours.
He rests his head on his paws, as if he understands the weight I’m carrying in my chest. I flip open the notebook and stare at the blank page, willing it to turn into something more. It doesn’t. I can’t find the words.
“Writer’s block or soul searching?” A voice calls from a distance.
It catches me off guard. I look up to see the guy from the log.
James. Sunglasses perched on his head, a coffee in one hand and a brown bag in the other.
He’s walking towards me with the confidence of a person who has figured out the whole world.
Wouldn’t that be nice? I think to myself.
“Maybe a bit of both,” I admit. He lowers himself onto the bench beside me and looks out to the horizon, sipping his coffee.
“Mind if I sit here?” I shake my head, grateful for the distraction.
He pulls a croissant out of the paper bag, tears it down the middle, hands one half to me and bites into the other.
“I find a sweet treat helps with both,” he says with a grin. I accept my half of the croissant and sit in quiet contemplation as I pull apart the pastry.
“Thank you. That’s very kind,” I say hesitantly. The small offering makes me smile. And as our conversation continues, I slowly start to forget last night… just for a little while.
When James was at school with me, he was known as the popular kid. The boy who walked around school without a care in the world. Even with all his popularity though, he was kind.
My little triangle of two other girls was perfect for me.
Fiona and Kitty are my family. We were inseparable at school, but one thing we always disagreed on was how handsome James was.
We would spend sleepovers discussing how his sharp cheekbones and his relaxed clothes were ‘perfection’.
The girls would try to convince me how dreamy he was.
I always disagreed; I didn’t understand the attraction.
To me, his slight air of arrogance and his unwavering self-awareness of just how ‘cool’ he really was made me cringe.
But I would let the girls talk, and I would sit between them, slowly shaking my head with slight amusement.
The girls would always tease me about how, ‘one day you will see it too, Elle.’
I never did see it until this moment right here. As our light-hearted conversation continues, I find myself watching him with intrigue. As I listen to him, I throw the ball up and down the shore for Bear to catch and bring back.
“Did you ever leave Sable?” I enquire.
“Of course. As soon as school was out, so was I. I took a trip.” He stops and takes another bite of his croissant. “Ethiopia.” He says it so casually, like it’s a normal holiday destination.
“That’s a little… odd?” I reply, intrigued.
“I helped build schools for kids,” he replies, slowly moving the sand around with his foot.
I look at him and chuckle. The moment the sound comes out of my mouth, he turns his head and looks at me defensively. I suddenly stop, and I feel my cheeks start to flame. Oh shit.
The heat grows through me as I realise….
“Oh God… you were serious.” I reply in utter horror.
“Yeah,” he says, nodding. A look grows across his face as my horror and embarrassment makes him smile. Once he has stopped laughing, he tries to make my embarrassment a little less painful.